


Let Me Love You

by RedHeadWithABedHead



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 17:16:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4357637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedHeadWithABedHead/pseuds/RedHeadWithABedHead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morrigan can be a bit icy, but a certain Grey Warden from Highever can warm her up in ways she could only dream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Love You

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first story I am re-posting from fanfiction.net. One of my personal favorites and one that gets requested a lot for a sequel. (One is already in the works, by the way!) I hope you all enjoy! The other account this is written under is Miranda le Ginger; I will post stories on both sites.

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         “Let me love you…” The words were a whispered caress that tingled when brushed against the witch’s pale, sensitive neck. Gooseflesh popped up on the alabaster flesh, and the normally stoic and easily antagonized apostate could not contain the shivers that ran up and down her body as the obsidian-haired warden kissed the back of her neck, brushing as light as a painter’s brush against a canvas.

  
         A slim nose ran lightly down the path those wicked lips went, a playful tongue licking in intermittent bursts.

       

        “Evelyn…” The swamp witch meant her tone to come across as haughty and full of warning, but instead it left her mouth as little more than a breath. A low chuckle sounded behind her, full of amusement and hidden promises.

      

         “Yes, my dear? What do you want?” That voice…so husky and layered with so many different emotions…Morrigan felt like she was drowning and being reborn at the same time.

        

         “Evelyn, we should not do this…w-we, you promised me that our trysts were over. ‘Tis not wise-to continue such…such explorations when the world hangs in the-balance…” Another kiss, this one lengthier, was placed upon the bared shoulder of the ichor-eyed woman.

         

         “I do not recall having made any promises; on the contrary, I never wanted to end our…tryst… to begin with.” The youngest Cousland’s voice filled with momentary disgust at the word, obviously not content with their escapades being demoted to such a demeaning term. “You keep telling me that I will regret being with you, that our relationship has been doomed from the start. Well…” Dexterous fingers slid down the silky skin of Morrigan’s back, causing a slight whimper to be forced back down the apostate’s throat at the sensation. “I happen to think that, for once in your life, you are wrong.”

 

  
           Morrigan fought against the haze that colored her senses like a fog, shaking her head much like the Warden’s faithful Mabari, Cloud. “I beg your pardon?” The witch turned to face her lover. Gold orbs took in the tan, seemingly unblemished skin, the shining silver of her armor with the Grey Warden insignia glistening proudly on the breastplate. Her dark hair hung down her back like a tainted waterfall, curling on the right side attractively. Those lips quirked upwards in a smirk, pale silver eyes alight with mischief and an undercurrent of abject longing. “I said you were wrong, my dear. This, what we feel, is worth it. Something so beautiful and wonderful could never be wrong.” A warm hand cupped Morrigan’s cheek, burning the skin like a thousand blazing suns. Morrigan felt the urge to lean away, but it was as if a force was keeping her in place. Helpless to resist, she stayed as still as possible, going for an air of indifference.

 

  
        “In this time, amidst all this darkness and tragedy, you alone keep me sane. You have given me meaning and renewed purpose. Whether you want to hear it or not, I love you Morrigan. Even if you do not acknowledge it or even care, it does not make what I feel less true.” The words, spoken so seriously and with so much conviction, settled deep into the witch’s bones, unchaining her heart and soul and setting them free. She sucked in a breath, exhaling shakily.

 

        Morrigan opened her mouth to shoot a barbed retort, but the words failed to come. Before she could, Evelyn effectively stole her breath another way. Wondrous lips scorched her own, pressing hard and lighting Morrigan ablaze with unbridled desire. Evelyn moved her hand forward, grasping the dark hair of her lover, setting the hair loose from its constricted form. Morrigan felt her hair fly free, moaning quietly as a rogue tongue prodded at her mouth. Despite her judgment, her mouth opened seemingly of its own accord, allowing the lithe little muscle to overtake her own and coax more sweet sounds from her throat.

 

  
        Morrigan’s control was quickly spiraling downhill; rationale was making way for the more base instincts she usually kept under lock and key. The witch was unused to relinquishing control of her emotions. Sure she was used to pleasure of the physical kind, but it was always with her firmly in charge and always at her behest. Evelyn was unlike the menfolk she usually shared her bedroll with. The Warden was beautiful; devastatingly so. She looked far more suited to be married off to a king and live a life of comfort instead of traipsing around the Ferelden countryside swinging dagger and sword at Darkspawn and men bearing ill intent. Evelyn touched everyone she met; she was not the type of woman that was easy to ignore. She was full of vigor and passion, and as bright as the meteor that granted her Starfang. Her skill in battle was as prominent as her beauty and noble lineage. The Grey Warden was fast becoming the hottest topic in Ferelden, even more so than the swine Loghain.

 

  
        Teeth nipped at her own pair, delicious pain bursting forth before quickly being soothed by a tongue. Evelyn maneuvered the apostate until she was reclined back on her arms, letting her muscles take all the weight. The silver-eyed warrior hovered over her witch, holding her gaze. Morrigan saw what her future could be, reflected in those beautiful orbs. An ache that matched the one between her thighs resonated deep in her chest, making her wish for the future she despised and yet wanted with every fiber of her being. Desperate, she threaded her slim fingers through her Warden’s hair and crashed their lips together once more. The kiss was like every great kiss should be; wet, hot and infused with all the words that cannot be merely spoken. A moan echoed around the small enclosed tent, from which woman Morrigan knew not.

 

  
       Evelyn kissed over to her neck, lavishing her attention on the sensitive skin. Morrigan clutched onto her head like a lifeline, holding the warrior there. Evelyn seemed to be happy to comply. Her tongue laved the abused skin her teeth had previously presided over, leaving marks undoubtedly on the too pale skin of the witch. Even with the group traveling all over defending Ferelden and justice and all that, the witch would never darken like Evelyn did. A strangled moan escaped her mouth unwillingly when the woman sucked hard at the junction were her neck met her shoulder; it was one of her erogenous zones. Evelyn leaned up on her arms, silver eyes dark as the storms that intermittently raged in Ferelden. “I think you are a tad overdressed, don’t you?” Evelyn, usually so patient, did not seem to have brought that quality into risqué situations.

 

  
     Gently, as if savoring an expensive gift, the surviving Cousland disrobed the woman who had stolen her breath as well as her heart. The clothes made barely a rustle as they slid off smooth and supple skin. Evelyn did not roam over the skin that was being swiftly revealed to her; instead, her attention was firmly attached to her golden counterparts. Once Morrigan was divested of her clothing, she lay bare and defenseless before her lover. It was not an entirely comfortable experience; Morrigan had never relished lying bare before her lovers. It gave a vulnerability to her that she usually fought tooth and nail to withhold. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on…” Evelyn’s eyes were so warm and soft, as light as her words and yet they conveyed so much meaning.

 

     “Well of course; I would expect nothing less.” Morrigan’s words were bereft of their usual sarcasm and snark. The words had touched her, twining around her fragile heart.  
“You…are wearing too many clothes now, Warden. We must remedy this at once.” With merely a wave of her hand, the clasps of the armor clicked open. What the magic did not take care of, eager fingers did. Once divested of her protection, Evelyn sat above her in her small clothes. Morrigan’s hands went to the hem of her dark blue tunic, wasting no time in lifting it over the warrior’s head. Evelyn lifted her arms skywards, making it easier on the witch. Morrigan, unlike her lover, stared unabashedly at the topless Warden before her. Her stomach, once soft and womanly, had firmed and hardened to the point of being similar to Shale’s skin. Evelyn was actually an inch taller than Morrigan herself, leaving her chest face level to the witch. Hungry eyes sloped downwards, taking in everything the woman was willing to give. The woman was full of irresistible charisma; it was no wonder that foolish templar and bard trotted after her like puppies. Even Zevran harbored a crush on the warden. But, it was Morrigan who got to share her tent and body.  
A feeling of possession washed over her, urging the witch to claim what was hers. Without warning, she lunged forward, engulfing a lightly browned nipple within the warm confines of her mouth.

 

     The warden threw her head back, panting as the witch made good use of her mouth. Fingernails racked down the flat stomach, feeling the muscles twitch and jump underneath. Her palm made contact with the neglected breast, caressing the soft mound roughly in her need to claim. Sharp canines dug into the soft skin of the breast between her lips, marring the perfect skin. The areola hardened under her tongue, waves of lust crashing over her and overriding all other thoughts. Evelyn cried out in pleasure, thrusting her chest out towards her golden-eyed lover, begging wordlessly for more. Morrigan, usually a tease, happily obliged due to her own growing need. She switched attentions, lavishing the opposite breast with her much appreciated presence. Those same lips moved down, sliding over the well-defined abs she was so enamored with. The muscles quivered underneath, hips jumping wildly as her own mischievous tongue dove into the little indent that was housed between the firmness.  
Morrigan had never felt more powerful that in that moment. However, her euphoria lasted but a mere few minutes before Evelyn broke free of her sex-induced haze, pushing Morrigan back down against the bedroll and blankets. Morrigan glared at her lover, an indignant sound rising up from her heaving chest. Evelyn’s chest rose and fell as she gained control over her emotions, smirking at her witch dangerously. Her teeth shone brightly against her tan skin.

 

    “As much as I loved your administrations, I had intended you to be first from the start. You can have me…after I have you.” The low, sultry register her voice managed to reach made Morrigan’s insides clench tightly, a moan trying to force itself out into the night air. The apostate reached frantically for her warrior’s broad shoulders, dragging her bare body down onto her own. The slick skin slid alongside her own, the much needed friction causing a sound to finally escape the witch’s mouth. Evelyn brushed her lips over the still prominent marks covering her neck in strategic areas, gliding over the glossy skin until she reached her right ear.

 

  
     Sensually, a tongue flicked out and teased the rim, garnering an involuntary thrust from the witch’s hips. Morrigan frowned, coloring slightly when she felt the sides of Evelyn’s mouth curl up in a smirk. The proud woman tried to sit up, pushing against the feminine shoulders of the warden; however, Evelyn was stronger. Morrigan’s back thumped against the ground, shivering as the bare body of the Cousland heir settled firmly over her once again. Those sensuous bits of flesh were once again at her ear, brushing faintly in time with the slender fingers at the tiny hairs along the nape of her neck. “Now now, settle down. I promise I’ll take very good care of you.” Morrigan opened her mouth to let fly a stinging retort, only to let loose a high-pitched whine instead when Evelyn rolled her hips into the witch’s. Straining, the apostate arched her back as she pushed her body more firmly into the slender one atop hers. “Sit back and enjoy the ride, my dear.”

 

  
     Evelyn left small little butterfly kisses down Morrigan’s neck again, passing where she had stopped earlier and instead kissing all along the defined collarbone. Evelyn sucked the skin between her teeth, marking her witch. The Warden moved down until her head was nestled in the valley between the witch’s ample breasts. The silver-eyed seductress hummed contentedly, nuzzling the pale flesh she had dreamed about for too many nights. Morrigan growled low in her throat, warning the Cousland girl without words to hurry along. Morrigan was never a patient person, but even less so with her need pulsing white-hot between her legs. She was sorely tempted to just grab a handful of that silky hair and push until that pretty little mouth was firmly situated between her-oh!

 

  
    While she had been internally monologuing, Evelyn had decided to quit teasing and get down to it. Her warm mouth was currently wrapped around a pink bud, sucking gently on the sensitive tissue. Morrigan keened lowly, molten gold orbs closed in utter bliss. That damnable tease…for a virgin, she certainly did not perform like one. The warmth from her mouth drove the apostate wild; her need skyrocketed to unmanageable proportions. Evelyn transferred to the other breast, taking the nipple between her lips reverently, sucking a bit harder than she did on the previous one. Her fingers massaged the breast she was not feasting upon, tenderly twirling the erect tip until it was painfully hard.

 

     Morrigan clenched her thighs, thrashing her head around. She was going absolutely insane with want; she was close to tears, and that was not acceptable. An ivory hand shot down and clenched the thick hair between her shaking fists, pulling hard enough that Evelyn made a low warning sound. Morrigan was persistent however; she could not form words in her distressed state, but she sure as hell could use her body and the language it was fluent in to make the woman quit dallying. Eyes the color of a raging storm flitted up to her, taking in the face flushed with exertion and the expression warring between longing and shame. Without taking her eyes away from her witch’s face, her body slithered down until she was mere inches away from the area Morrigan (desperately) wanted her to be. Her mouth was a mere inch away, cool breath brushing along the most private place of the apostate. Evelyn’s silver eyes kept Morrigan’s attention; drawing back another inch, a serious expression fell over her beautiful face. Voice husky with arousal and brimming with concern that was not readily shown, she asked “Can I have you? Can I have this?”

 

  
      Morrigan was floored; she had thought their actions spoke clearer than any words she could ever say? But at the same time, a curious warmth spread throughout her chest, spreading throughout her entire body. To be cared for, without any conceivable reason and without and monetary or otherwise selfish reason…it was a strange concept to the witch. All she had known was how to use; use, discard and gain. Voice choked, she nodded her head. Her golden hues must have conveyed her assent, for Evelyn shook her head imperceptibly. The next thing Morrigan knew, those silken lips were pressed right up against her sacred area. A keening gasp escaped unbidden, rising on the still night air and mingling with the scent of their love. Hot. That is the only word Morrigan could fathom. The tongue burned like her hottest fire, consuming her like her magic did. Fingers tugged on the dark strands, holding the Warden firmly in place. Whimpers and moans flew from her mouth, ripping from her throat. She’d be lucky if her throat was not raw after all this uncouth yelling….

 

  
     Evelyn, for her part, was not complaining at the rough handling or the loud cries. If anything, it just boosted her admittedly large ego. She pushed harder, feeling no resistance. Her strong hands held tense thighs down, as the thrashing got more violent whilst Morrigan was in the throes of passion. Silver flashed up, seeing how her lover was faring. The cords of her neck were visible and the remaining Cousland could swear she could see Morrigan’s heart beating in tempo with their movements. A practiced finger soon joined her tongue, easily probing without complication. The cacophony in the small tent reached epic proportions; the witch was near. Sweat beaded on a tan forehead as she amped her performance, intent on making sure Morrigan enjoyed her ministrations a hundred percent. The Witch of the Wilds felt a pressure directly where Evelyn was pleasuring her. The witch tried to hold back, fearing the vulnerability of the orgasm; she had never before experienced one, not with any of her former male lovers.  
“Morrigan….let yourself go. Let go love…” The last word proved to be her undoing; hearing the one thing she had always secretly craved/loathed hearing was just too much for her overly sensitized mind. With a scream identical to the archdemon, the golden-eyed temptress did just as her love asked. Her body convulsed as little mewls panted out of her open mouth. As she gasped for air, she felt familiar strong arms wrap around her waist, hoisting her against a sweat-slicked, warm body. “Shhhh, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” And the Grey Warden did have her; she would have her, all the way to the end. Morrigan did not know what the future would bring when duty reared its ugly head, but for now it seemed she was in possession of a Warden. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

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